CopyCAT
by Twinings
Summary: Take Your Daughter to Work Day this was not. CATverse 3.10
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I am not DC. Therefore I do not own Batman. Logical, no?_

_View the CAT timeline at www. freewebs catverse. html. This follows after "Aquatic Nocturne."  
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_Cover image by AdAbsurdum.  
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* * *

CopyCAT

There were strange things afoot in Gotham City. Stranger things than usual. Strange things involving the Scarecrow's trio of hired help, CAT—the Captain, Al, and Techie.

And what were those three worthies up to on this balmy June evening?

They-or, more specifically, Al-was making a friend.

They were not good at making new friends.

Since moving to Gotham, Al had never gone any farther than the grocery store without being accompanied by at least one of her friends, whether it was Techie, the Captain, the Scarecrow, or maybe the Riddler. She didn't know anyone else.

But tonight was going to change all that. Because she had been invited to a tea party with the Mad Hatter. And not even her socially phobic tendencies were going to stop her from showing up for that.

(Did he even realize that her name was not short for Alice? It wasn't short for anything—although she was starting to think that Aloysius had a nice ring to it.)

Her friends saw her off with some last minute advice and a reminder not to forget the tea she had meant to bring him. She promised to tell them _everything,_ and then she left.

"So…now what are we going to do?" Techie asked when Al was gone.

"Oh, you mean _I_ have to decide?"

"Well, either you or the Ouija board."

"I don't have a Ouija board," the Captain said seriously. "Al would never let me keep one of those things in the house."

"Well, Al's not here now. We have no adult supervision."

They both snickered over the idea of Al as a responsible adult. She _was_the Winston to their Peter and Ray (which made Squishykins the Egon, which made Captain want to run her hands through his hair...)

"Want to watch a movie?" the Captain suggested.

"No. We've watched all our movies already."

"That was fast. Well…is the internet still dead?"

"As a can of spam. I know I can get it going again, but it'll take a while."

"Hmm…there's always bothering Squishy."

"I don't know. He's been awfully gas-happy lately."

"Oh! I know! We can dye our hair and surprise Number One when she gets home."

"Do you have any hair dye?"

The Captain's face fell.

"Oh. No. I said I wasn't going to buy any more of that stuff until I could find a company that didn't test on animals. And then I never did. I guess that's a weird thing for a criminal's henchman to be worried about, but…"

"But…" Techie echoed, a mischievous gleam coming to her eyes.

"But…" the Captain repeated, as the exact same expression came over her face.

"_But_…we're in a position to do something about it. I mean, who's going to stop us?"

The Captain laughed.

"No one, that's who! Let's go blow up a factory!"

"Hold on, there, sparky," Techie said. "There are other ways to send them a message than just blowing them up." The Captain looked disappointed.

"If you say so."

"You wouldn't want to hurt all the poor little test animals, would you?"

"Well, no, of course not. But I want to blow _something_ up."

"Oh, we will, Captain," she said. "We will."


	2. Chapter 2

Half an hour later, two shadows skittered across the roof of STAR Labs, unseen by anyone on the street below. Dressed all in black, hair and faces covered, it was fairly obvious that they were up to no good, by the standards of normal society. They evoked Catwoman's grace and charm in a way that was not at all unconscious, and would have led a hefty percentage of the male population of Gotham, and not a few of the females, to the kind of thoughts that _proper young ladies_ would not have appreciated.

It was a shame they had no one to show off for.

Then again, when the Captain tripped over a pocket of extra-thick air and took a sudden closer look at the rooftop she had been walking on, she counted herself lucky that no one was watching. No one important, anyway.

"Graceful, Captain," Techie laughed.

"Hey, I've done worse." She sat up, pulled off her mask, and put a hand to her mouth. "Place is fuckin' booby trapped, man. Am I bleeding?"

"Just a little."

The Captain shrugged.

"Oh, well. What's an adventure without a little bloodshed?"

"Preferably someone else's blood, of course."

"I'll take what I can get."

"Oh, sure." Techie got to work cutting through the glass of the skylight while the Captain stood lookout for any flying rodents. "What kind of idiots set their labs up like this, anyway? They're making this too easy for us."

"Hey, this is Gotham. There's no security system on earth that _someone_ here can't get through. Can you really blame the greedy bastards for not wanting to spend the money on the real deal, when they know they can always count on Batman to be the security guard from hell?"

Carefully, Techie set the pane of glass aside.

"You had to go and mention _him_, didn't you? Watch the motion sensors." She slipped down through the hole she had created, sliding easily down the thin climbing ropes they had borrowed from a nearby sports and outdoors store. The Captain followed shortly.

Moving slowly enough to avoid setting off the motion detectors (a mediocre security measure at best) was a strain on the arms and shoulders, and rough on the gloves. They weren't properly outfitted for this, and they had been neglecting the training necessary for any really demanding physical work. But they could still pull this off—they had the minds for it, and they had the will.

If they were going to make a habit of it, though (and they _were_; they were already addicted to the thrill of victory, and knew it well) they were going to have to put more work into it.

Techie hit the floor and made her way to the doorway they wanted.

"Just mentioning the man isn't going to make him show up," the Captain whispered, after a soft grunt and a thud indicated her reacquaintance with the ground.

"Yeah, right. When's the last time _you_ watched a horror movie?"

"Last Thursday, remember?"

"That was a rhetorical—never mind," Techie groaned. Her friend was obviously feeling childish, and only by focusing on the job at hand would she regain any semblance of seriousness. "We've got a laser grid to deal with. It's loosely spaced, but it extends all the way down the hallway."

"So, what are you better at, the limbo or the high jump?"

"Limbo…why?" The Captain grinned. "You know I don't trust that look on your face."

The Captain giggled like a six-year-old.

"Look what I can do, Ops!" She put a hand on each side of the doorway. "I used to do this when I was a kid. Drove my mother crazy. I would drop down on her head whenever she walked into a room. I stripped the paint off all the doorways in our house when I was nine." She pulled herself up, steadying herself with her feet.

"You're not going down the whole hallway like that, are you?"

"Actually," the Captain squeaked, and let herself slip down. "I just remembered why I stopped doing this. Ow." She doubled over, hands pressed to her chest. "Broke my sternum when I was ten. Oh, ow."

"Figures. Are you ready to take this the easy way?"

"If we must. But that would have been so impressive…"


	3. Chapter 3

_Trigger warning: misogynist language_

* * *

The gauntlet of security systems wasn't the toughest they'd ever faced. Apparently, test animals weren't worth guarding.

Either that, or someone had gone in ahead of them and deactivated a choice few of the traps.

But who, besides them, would break into STAR, bypass the loads and loads of shiny equipment, and make right for the testing facility full of nothing more valuable than the cages full of poor, helpless animals?

"Catwoman," Techie hissed. "It's got to be her. The real thing! _Here_, with us!"

The Captain giggled.

"Quick, set off the alarms!"

Techie stared at her.

"What? That's how Harley and Ivy met, isn't it?"

"Captain, do _not_ touch anything."

"Yeah, sure, Indy." Smirking, she trailed her fingers along the wall as she walked up to the door they wanted, which was slightly ajar.

"Be _careful_," Techie whispered.

"Oh, like she doesn't already know we're here." She flung open the door.

The room was darker than she had expected—so she could be forgiven for not dodging the cracking whip that curled around her forearm and jerked her into the room.

Her exclamation was three parts excitement to one part pain. Knowing that, safe in the hallway, Techie muttered, "I'm not running in there to save your ass. If I help you, you'll never learn your lesson."

In the lab, the Captain squinted cheerfully into the dark, trying to get a look at her opponent.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," she called out sweetly. "Who's a pretty kitty? Who's a pretty kitty cat?"

Waves of incredulous silence radiated from the darkened room.

"Who are _you_?" Catwoman finally asked, overcome by that proverbial curiosity. The Captain slipped her arm free of the whip.

"There are some who call me…Mon Capitan," she intoned solemnly, then burst into helpless giggles. Techie couldn't help rolling her eyes even as she cracked a smile. "I'm here on a rescue mission. You probably won't believe this, but I've been a PETA guerilla since I was a kid."

Techie heard "pita gorilla," and burst out laughing. Oops. So much for waiting in the wings to take the possibly-hostile cat burglar by surprise.

"So have I," she called before pushing the door open.

The Captain was holding her slightly bloody arm and giggling, while Catwoman stared, perplexed and mildly annoyed.

"You're here to free the test animals?" she asked suspiciously.

"We were going to drop them at a no-kill shelter," Techie explained. The Captain nodded vigorously. "Unless you have a better idea?"

Catwoman's full, dark lips curled up in a self-satisfied smirk.

"I have a place for the cats." She reached out through the bars of one of the cages to run her finger down the nose of a sickly looking rabbit. It looked up at her with sad, gummy eyes and twitched its nose in a vain attempt to disguise itself as a regular Peter Cottontail. "You two are welcome to take the rest."

"You bitch," the Captain said with half a laugh. Catwoman scowled.

"Bitch?"

"You're taking the theme a little far, aren't you?"

"_Bitch_?"

"I mean, I always heard you were supposed to be one of the sane ones."

"Bitch," she repeated.

"She didn't mean it," Techie said hastily. "She's just overwhelmed, what with finally meeting you and all. We've both looked up to you for a very long time."

"Hmm," Catwoman said dubiously. She popped the lock on one of the cages and let its occupant, a mangy orange tomcat, crawl out into her arms. It meowed pathetically. "I work alone," she said, scratching behind the kitty's ears. "No sidekicks. And the only strays I take in are the four-legged kind."

Techie's stubborn pride flared up at that.

"We didn't ask to be your pets, you know. We already work for the Scarecrow."

Catwoman's expression, what could be seen of it, went from condescendingly disinterested to furious in the blink of an eye.

"Get out."

"What—"

"Get _out_ of this lab! You are not taking these defenseless animals for that maniac to use in his twisted experiments."

"You think we're lying about why we came here today?" the Captain growled. "You think no one in the world but you could possibly do anything even marginally altruistic? Fuck you, Miss I'm-So-Special-But-I-Only-Care-About-The-Cats. I'm amazed you can get your head that far up your ass with your leather pants so tight."

Techie groaned.

"Captain, how many times do I have to tell you not to taunt the supervillains?"

"Get out of this lab," Catwoman repeated through clenched teeth. The Captain snorted in disgust.

"You couldn't pay me enough to stay here with you." She shoved her way past both of them, out the door and down the hall, stomping as loudly as she could and grumbling about bunnies and kittens.

Techie forced a smile.

"Well, Catwoman, it was very nice meeting you, but I really must dash. Please understand, I hold you in the highest regard." She turned and ran after the Captain before Catwoman could make use of the whip she was wielding so threateningly.

_Oh, yeah. _That_ went well._


	4. Chapter 4

"I _like_ her pants."

"So do I," the Captain admitted.

"You really shouldn't have insulted her," Techie pointed out. She probably would have done the same if Captain hadn't lost her temper first, but she still felt the need to say so. The Captain shrugged.

"I can't stand hypocrites. She's supposed to be doing the wrong things for the right reasons. She's supposed to be the antihero who…" She shrugged again. "I thought she was cool. She could be a villain without being a bad person. She was the epitome of feminine power. You know she was the first woman who ever made me question my sexuality? I guess it was stupid of me to build her up so big in my mind."

"Completely understandable," Techie admitted. After all, the Captain wasn't the only one who had idolized the cat. She took a firm hold on the ledge, braced herself against the inevitable vertigo, and looked down. "Hey, Captain?"

"Hey, what?"

"She has a puppy."

"Dude. Seriously?" She leaned out, barely hanging on to anything. Techie felt a stab of envy. Throw the Captain off a building, and she would panic just fine, probably more than the average person—she couldn't even watch the end of _The Princess Bride_ without flinching—but let her just look down on a dizzying, hold-up-a-"help"-sign-and-plunge-to-your-doom-in-a-puff-of-dust heights, and she was disgustingly unconcerned, ever the child, defiant in the face of her own mortality. No overwhelming waves of dizziness for her, oh no.

"What's she doing?" Techie asked. Perching on a ledge on the next building over, with a perfect view of all the goings-on below, was all well and good for someone who could actually look down without risking loss of consciousness...

"She put the puppy in the back of her truck with the other animals." She hesitated. "There's more than cats in there, Ops."

"The plot thickens."

They both had the same thing on their minds, Techie knew. Well, there was nothing new about that. They usually did.

The Captain was the first to say it out loud.

"We have to follow her."

Techie had to smile.

"Of course."


	5. Chapter 5

Their first stop was the animal shelter. There, Catwoman was a wonder to watch. She moved like a shadow, like a thought, a ripple on the water, a whisper in the wind. She was pure grace. Up the wall, in the window, and a moment later out the door. She had the animals locked up safe in the blink of an eye, from aardvark to zebra. (Well, not really. But only because there weren't any zebras.)

And then she was off again, up to the rooftops with all the slinky grace of a panther prowling at midnight. They could hear her giving instructions to someone over a radio, directions to the animal shelter, and orders to take the truck and its feline occupants to their previously appointed destination. Wherever that was. Then she melted off into the night.

The girls followed, scaling the wall with considerably more difficulty. They reached the roof just in time to see her leaping across the chasm to the next one.

"We're going to get ourselves killed chasing after her," Techie groaned. The Captain nodded cheerfully, got a running start, and made the jump before she could lose her nerve. Techie followed.

Across the rooftops they went, keeping to the shadows and employing their top stealth mode. They lost sight of Catwoman once or twice, only to spot her a moment later on the other side of a nigh-impossible bit of footwork. It was quite the thrilling chase. How many people could claim to have shadowed Gotham's greatest cat burglar through her own territory?

But even the greatest chase must come to an end. When Catwoman slipped into a penthouse through a locked, barred window, there was no sheltered spot for them to wait out of sight for her to make her exit.

They popped on up to the roof, where they could look down on the sights and sounds of Gotham and talk without fear of interruption.

"I wish I could move like that," the Captain sighed. She stretched, raising one leg into the air and pointing her toes like a ballerina.

"Don't throw your hip out." Reluctantly, the Captain sat down.

"Fine. But still."

"I know. It would be easier if she would stop being so awesome."

"Why can't anybody we meet just suck?" the Captain grumbled. "Why do they all have to have redeeming qualities?"

"Same reason all the good people have the suck factor deep down," Techie shrugged. It wasn't much of an answer, but it was the best either of them was likely to get.

They both stared off into space, brooding. Techie kept her eyes on the overcast night sky. The Captain looked down, down at the remote and glittering city. Most nights, Techie might have seen a winged shadow wavering against the clouds inside its circle of light, reminding those below who was really in charge of Gotham.

But tonight, it was the Captain who saw the first evidence of the Bat.

"Ops, hide!"

Techie didn't question the order. They both sprinted to the other side of the roof, where they dropped down to a narrow ledge, out of sight, but still able to look and listen.

First Batman appeared with a flap and a thump, visible only for a moment before he melted into the shadows. Then came Catwoman, from the other direction, a glittering yellow diamond in her hand, a faint clink coming from the pouch on her belt.

"What did Moira Pevensey ever do to you?"

Catwoman didn't seem at all surprised to hear Batman's deep gravel.

"I was wondering how long it was going to take you to show up. It's not very nice to keep a lady waiting." She played with the jewel, unconcerned with anything but the sparkle, as Batman stepped into the light.

"This is the second time you've robbed her this month. You're not usually this sloppy."

Catwoman frowned.

"Now you're just being rude. Besides, how else was I going to make sure you'd come?"

It was amazingly difficult to stifle their giggles. Catwoman? Batman? A romantic tryst? Watching this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and giggling would draw the wrong kind of attention and ruin the moment. But at times like this, giggling was almost unavoidable.

"Well, handsome?" Catwoman ran her claws down Batman's chest. He gave her the granite-faced glare.

"Well?"

"Well, well, well," she purred. He didn't go for it, as she must have known he wouldn't.

"Hand them over."

Catwoman pouted artfully.

"Aw…you never let me have any fun."

"No," he said.

Catwoman's pout deepened, sensual and calculated.

"Oh, all right. If that's the way you want it." She tossed the diamond at him, and, in the same fluid motion, dropped to the ground and swept a kick at his ankles. Techie could have cheered when she saw Batman fall flat on his back and the diamond drop neatly back into Catwoman's gloved palm.

Batman wasn't incapacitated for long, of course. He came up gracefully, a batarang singing just under Catwoman's feet as she leapt for an overhanging flagpole and swung herself onto a nearby ledge.

"You're slow, Batman. I thought you wanted to get your hands on me." She arched her back, prepared to spring over to another ledge.

"Give it up, Catwoman." There was no hesitation in his face or voice. Only the most careful observer would have seen the way he looked at her. He hid it well, that overwhelming desire to reach out and touch her. Catwoman hid her own desire even better, right there in plain sight. She was purring, deep in her throat, nearly vibrating with the need to circle around him, rub herself against his legs, mark him as hers. And she played it as a tease. Brilliant.

"I'll give in when you give in." He leaped up after her, all powerful muscularity and determination. She sprang just out of his reach.

"Selina! I don't have time for this cat and mouse!"

"No time? You mean you're leaving me so soon? Well, this wouldn't be the first time I let you take a rain check. Do you run out on a lot of women like this, or is it just for me?"

"Don't make me coax you down from your tree," he said sternly. Techie smothered another giggle, hardly able to believe that Batman was _joking around with a criminal_ (even if there were distinct stick-up-his-ass undertones) and that _she was around to hear it_. It was a dream come true, it was.

"Why don't you come up after me?"

"S…" He might have been about to call her by name again, or it might only have been an exasperated sigh. "Catwoman."

"Batman." His word was hard; hers was a caress. "Come up if you're coming. If not, I have a date with a scratching post." She stretched luxuriously, claws digging into the marble.

Techie moved backwards, feeling carefully for her footholds. Beside her, the Captain did the same. It was time to leave the lovebirds—love-mammals? Whatever they were, it was time to leave them alone.


	6. Chapter 6

_Trigger warning: more misogynist language, slut shaming, things said in anger by people who should know better._

* * *

"She's…hot," Techie said thoughtfully.

"Very."

"And she knows it."

"Obviously," the Captain sighed. "Very obviously."

Techie laughed. It wasn't a particularly mirthful sound, more a concentrated effort to dissolve her own lingering irritation.

"Did you ever think we'd be sitting on some anonymous rooftop, calling Catwoman a bitch-ass skank behind her back?"

Techie snickered.

"Maybe you should say it to my face," came a thoroughly unamused voice from just behind her. Techie felt some part of her insides make a sudden, desperate bid for freedom as the Captain squeaked in alarm and fell off her seat. Techie turned to face the newcomer, scrambling to find a good defensive stance.

"Hi—" The Captain cleared her throat. "Hiya, Catwoman. We were just talking about you." H-how's the missus?"

Catwoman folded her arms and glared.

"Why have you been following me?"

"Why?" the Captain repeated dopily. "Why? Because we _like_ you!"

"Uh…huh. Why, again?"

"Good question," Techie muttered.

"No, really. What is it? Is it the leather that makes you think I'd like a couple of bondservants? Do you have a thing for whips, is that it?"

"We admired your _skill_, you nitwit," growled Techie. At that, Catwoman's whip unfurled.

"Go home, little girls. Gotham is no place for amateurs, and the last thing I need is a couple of kids who think they're the Harley Twins." She flicked her wrist, not quite cracking the whip, but drawing attention to the fact that it was there.

Techie exhaled slowly and turned to the Captain.

"Just to set things straight…is she comparing us to Harley?"

"She's saying we'd _fail_ at being Harley."

"That's what I thought." She turned back to Catwoman. "I am _nothing_ like that psychotic, peroxide-enhanced, scatterbrained, dippy little blonde gimmick of a henchgirl. And if you don't stop flicking that whip at us, I'm going to shove it down your throat. Do you really think you can scare us? We work for the Scarecrow. We live with him. We sleep under the same roof."

"Oh? And how did you get _that_ job?" Her gaze swept down to chest level, and back up. "He's never shown any interest in that before." Techie felt her jaw clench and her muscles tense. "The way Ivy tells it, he couldn't even get it up with a double dose of pheromones. Why would he pay for a toy he can't play with? Or does he just like to watch?"

The Captain snarled something highly uncomplimentary. Techie was too busy throwing herself at Catwoman to pay attention to her partner's words.

The feeling of fist on flesh had never been more satisfying. So she did it again, vaguely elated by how fast Catwoman went down, head slamming into the concrete. Techie planted a knee on her chest to hold her still and punched her once more for good measure.

"Maybe he's just not impressed with twits like you!"

"It takes more than tits to make a woman, miss sex appeal," the Captain added from the sidelines.

Catwoman smiled at that. Techie could only stare in shock. Did she have a sense of humor after all? (And how had she taken two body blows and a punch to the jaw without being incapacitated? Techie was going to have to work out more.)

"What traditionally defines a woman falls between two things," Catwoman purred, and did something brain-hurting with her legs that knocked Techie on her back. Catwoman pinned her, a knee on each arm, hands hovering at her throat.

"Her legs," the Captain finished helpfully. Then she frowned. "But not always, though."

"Speaking of which," said Techie, "great technique. Can I get up now?"

Catwoman hissed and pressed a claw to Techie's jugular.

Techie couldn't bring herself to do anything but roll her eyes and swat the hand away.

"Ops," the Captain said with a wince, as if she were about to see her friend's head go rolling off the edge of the roof. (Would it bounce, or just smash open like a watermelon?)

"Grow up, Catwoman," Techie said sternly. "Meow, hiss, what the fuck ever. I'm not afraid of you."

"_Ops_, she still has claws…"

"I am _not_ impressed with posturing bitches who think they can use their 'feminine wiles' to get out of a fight. Sorry, Cats. You're not doing it for me right now, so will you please get your crotch off my chest and your claws out of my face?"

"Bitch?" Catwoman repeated. "_Bitch_? This again? Do I look like a dog to you?" Her voice dripped fury in that particular lingering yowl that only a riled kitty could achieve.

"Fushta!" Techie announced. With a twist and a shove, she got herself out from under the felonious feline and to her feet, dancing back out of grabbing range. "And, yes, you do look like a posturing bitch in black vinyl with no more sense than to go into heat at the first sign of action."

Hissing, Catwoman launched herself at Techie, who dropped into an appropriately-named cat stance and (barely) warded off the face-scratch she had known was coming. The Captain could only stand and watch, giggling.

"Nice claws, you twit!" Techie taunted. "Come on and fight me like a girl!" Catwoman made a graceful spin that slammed the heel of her boot into the younger woman's chest. Techie fell flat on her back. "Much…better," she wheezed.

"How's that for fighting like a girl?" Catwoman glowered.

"I _said_ 'much better.'"

The Captain sat down, clearly wishing she had popcorn.

Techie made a try for a sweeping kick, hooking Catwoman's knee with her foot. The cat burglar evaded nimbly.

"That's enough, kid. You're beat. Do yourself a favor and stay down."

"I've never been good at that," Techie confessed. "But since I don't have any _backup_…"

"Nope, too busy watching this show to break it up," the Captain put in. "Although I'm sure I could be persuaded to change my mind. Want to keep talking about the Scarecrow? Go on, make a few more implications about his manhood. Jump to some more conclusions about our sex lives. It's been a while since I've had to defend someone's honor. Oh, please can I defend my honor? Can I, please? Can I, can I?"

Catwoman picked up the whip she had dropped and started coiling it up.

"Well, you're loyal, anyway. You've got the enthusiasm, you fight reasonably well—at least, I assume you both do—and you're not too bad at breaking and entering. Lay off the sugar, and you might last longer than a week. But don't go crossing the A-list. Just because you've got that scrawny sack of straw on your side doesn't mean you can rub _everyone's_ fur the wrong way."

"He's not on our side," the Captain protested. "He doesn't even like us." Techie frowned.

"Don't tell her that!"

Catwoman chuckled.

"So, you're more realistic than Harley, too. That's good. You'll last longer if you can keep a grip on reality."

Techie and the Captain exchanged a startled glance.

"Are you…"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I approve of you in any way, and I'm not saying I think you'll last, and I'm certainly not going to pretend the man you work for doesn't make me want to take the risk of murdering him more often than not. But as long as you stick to your own territory, I don't see any reason why I should take it upon myself to throw you out of Gotham."

"Um…cool," the Captain said hesitantly. "So, would this be a good time to ask for an autograph?"

Catwoman glared at her.

"Okay. I'll take that as a no."

"Go home and get some rest." She stepped up to the edge of the roof and made as if to step off. Then she looked over her shoulder at the girls. "Oh, kids? Knock it off with the slut shaming or I'll take you on for _real_." Then she was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

They returned to the lair with no further misadventure, only to find the Scarecrow standing in the middle of the room, staring off into space and wearing a battered purple top hat. Al was sitting in front of him, giggling like a madwoman.

"Oh, dear God, she's made a friend of the Hatter," the Captain groaned. "Al?"

"Captain Techie Techie Captain!" Al burbled. "Watch, waaatch!" She jumped up. "Squishy, sing!"

He struck a pose—dear sweet Lord, he _struck a pose_, smiled broadly, and belted out, "Hello, my baby! Hello, my honey! Hello, my ragtime gal! Send me a kiss by wire! Baby, my heart's on fire!" (All while maintaining that same glassy look in his eyes.)

The Captain gasped so hard it was a wonder her lungs didn't explode, and interrupted, "Squishy, metal!"

He froze up for a second, then burst out with, "My love for you is like a truck! BERSERKER!"

"**HA**!" the Captain cheered. "Ha! I knew it! I knew he'd been listening!"

"Would you like some making fuck? BERSERKER!"

"Squishy said making fuck!" Al squealed.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Techie said giddily, unable to hold out until after the 'suck my cock.' "If you're blue and you don't know where to go to why don't you go where fashion sits?"

"Puttin' on the Ritz!"

From somewhere above them came a sudden muffled laugh. The girls all looked up just in time to see Catwoman land on her hands and knees on their coffee table, which promptly collapsed. She lay amid the debris, cackling, with tears running down her face.

"You ha—you have—a Scarecrow puppet!" the cat burglar chortled. "And he has such a beautiful singing voice!"

Techie gaped. Was Catwoman _spying_ on them now?

Al managed to stop staring at the laughing cat long enough to ask, "What exactly were y'all up to while I was gone?" The Captain grinned.

"Look, look! The kitty cat followed us home! Can we keep her, Squishy?" Jonathan didn't react. "Oh, right." She reached up to remove the hat.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Catwoman said hastily. Al frowned.

"Why?"

"What, didn't Jervis tell you how his chips work? 'Squishy'-" She snickered. "-is _aware_ of everything you're doing to him, and I'm guessing he's pretty pissed off about it."

Al instantly skittered to the other side of the room.

"Shit! Really? Shit! Shitshitshitshitcockmungler-oh-my-God-I'm-in-trouble. _Really_?"

Techie leaned in close to inspect the boss's face. Then she backed away slowly.

"His eye is twitching," she pronounced. "He's going to kill us all."

"Especially me," Al squeaked. "He's going to kill me _twice_."

"Did you do something to him before we got here?"

Al covered her face with both hands and nodded.

"I'm not even going to ask." The Captain smiled hopefully at Catwoman. "So, _mon chat ami_, oh magnificent tigress of the night…um…do you think we could stay with you for the next couple of…" She glanced at Jonathan, then at Al. "Erm, years?"

"That depends. Do I get to play with your toy before we run?" She chuckled. "Or do I just get to watch?"

Well, Catwoman couldn't make things any _worse_, could she? Maybe they could convince her not to tell anyone. And maybe she could do something to divert his wrath. If they all flashed him right before they knocked the hat off and ran, maybe he would have something else to think about.

And if they got on Catwoman's good side, maybe she would teach them how to crawl on the ceiling unseen by those below.

"For the record," said Al, "I'm _strongly_ against this."

Her friends ignored her. It was too late to save her, anyway.


End file.
